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Signs of Potential Life

by Sean Moore

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1.
I lit a matchbook to see if I would burn they say the brightest always has the last word (no...) consequence of absence drops a pin on my wooden floor not that I am counting days...three hundred and sixty-four this...the defining moment so carefully observed reluctance...reluctance I dismiss this...the calculated science an error sewn too deep reluctance...reluctance I am filled with I tackle thoughts in sleep...not strong enough to win to think I can compete would require confidence this...the defining moment so carefully observed reluctance...reluctance I dismiss this...the calculated science an error sewn too deep reluctance...reluctance I am filled with reluctance...reluctance...reluctance... reluctance I am filled with
2.
do without those who will prophesize when you will come alive do it now...remove all shred of doubt that you're not seeking out hope comes to many of the few wait, allow...piece together now (I forgot me with you) you can break...conscience was a big mistake that we never meant to make let's bow down...hands out to the greater crowd I cough in the clouds (lonely eyes cast a spell) in our love all we shared may we never be impaired
3.
this could be a while for my inadvertence the late-breaking news screams I am divergent everything is building like the tallest towers everything is only adding up to big questions these 6x8s are perfect for building up... any or all of my many fragmented ideas... to distinguish myself beyond a number everything is building like the tallest towers everything is only adding up to big questions giving in to delusions of quiet succession everything that disconnects will fall right into place why must we converse in secret codes? how can we unravel our tied tongues? why must we converse in secret codes?
4.
ticket stubs, spent love in aerial planes my, we are flying low today clouds burst our thirst...no words, even worse the damage in our tongues helpful, helpless...return to regress retirees with dancing steps all across the portrait of loss for love we're neglectful of... pardon for faults are propagating vaults to hide... what we fear has died tortured by a facade feed the fruitless mirage of no reply wakeless, dreamless coma this the profile of a... silhouette forced to rest time is now to retire functioning has expired rows of faded shadows hiccups, coughs...signing off no laughs...just goodbye we are trying not to try missteps, none left forget how to rise we've negated prosperous lives
5.
triumph never could be tuned directing the crash course, I... tune out...all doubt painted inside documenting all of nothing loving failure, I step aside relaxing the mind muscle I have paid these thoughts in full no change arranged for aching souls all without one...liberation trading wordplay for lack of say removing trace elements from the earth's sediments decide where to sign on scientific lines deleting the error...never did declare her... ruler of sequential plastic love a shivered mind, a loud... receiving, transmitting sound reduce the tremor dial remain in shameful piles a tortured voice somehow... distorts with coarseness abound relief, relieved... the teething beast has found reprieve
6.
Think Not 03:58
you are my vice comatose in disguise I elect you burdened replay slide the coins, run away not making use of the day in moderation comes excessive payment to the cause causing me to question all relations through the fog (or not...) pleasure for permanent scar...conclude all class has taught (think not...) hunting for sport allow my lungs to retort may I ask what for? in moderation comes excessive payment to the cause now we pause... causing me to question all relations through the fog (or not...) pleasure for permanent scar...conclude all class has taught (think not...) causing me to question all conclusions with all thought (think not, think not...)
7.
Soliloquy 04:01
like a deadweight in a sea of stars I'm reluctant, never going far I retreat into my vacant room my problems won't wait for me soon everything comes crashing down in threes pity I can't count my way through these value depreciating starting birth can I be sold?...what's my worth? hoping for any signs of potential life to wash me dry night is coming and I am hiding begging for any signs of potential life to wash me dry night is coming and I am hiding like a deadweight in a sea of stars I'm reluctant, never going far I retreat into my vacant room my problems won't wait for me soon
8.
can we hold our stone poses? without guidance I don't condone this hardly pacing for new design tears cried, I don't ask for lies fears dry up eyesight, oh why? should we measure love with trophies? competitiveness is not one of our better qualities calculating without regard for our hearts unfortunately, unfortunately how unfortunate we who side with our lies
9.
signal to the poet ask him to build this rhyme scheme of yours gracious are the thinkers who take over when logic gets to you criticize all that you want...give it a go try to find anything wrong with my tone the fruits of our labors end oh, how we pretend apples will rot over time...then so will I tired are notions when glasses half full... turn out to be empty cups contractual agreement is not in the cards unless the king is belly up fall over your sense of thought no one can tell keep your balance well-rehearsed while you sit a spell the fruits of our labors end oh, how we pretend apples will rot over time...then so shall I then so shall I... condolences are reserved for those who fail in the company's green eyes what better company should we expect? than those livid from disguise signal to the poet ask him to build this rhyme scheme of yours gracious are the thinkers who take over when logic gets to you
10.
I don't require you to say that I am your out of the ordinary confidante I don't place words on display just to feel or mean something that I don't really mean to say please don't ask more than I can give, it's not the time a tragedy occurs within my mind... I can destroy beyond repair, the things I seek they probably shouldn't have been sought by me I can elope from having bright light flights they've strapped me in...I'll cut the cord... visibility...clearly is not for me apologies particularly forgone all wrong, all wrong so long... oh look, there goes a day or twelve or twenty-four I don't believe I'm feeling feelings anymore...
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about

"It's not surprising that one of extremities of the local band sweethearts, Dodger and The Heathens has his own unique "umph" for Orlando. Even so, Sean Moore's Signs of Potential Life goes beyond what could have been imagined.


The three-year project serves almost as a soundtrack to a collaboration of thoughts, and every complexity involved (Even the occasional schizophrenic themes a la Brian Wilson). Even despite the darker colorations throughout the album, Moore still laces in a sensation of patience and tranquility with his floating melodies and tightly woven harmonies. It is evident that he's learned from the best, and has indulged his ears and experience in a variety of genres.

Signs of Potential Life is a carefully layered timbre collage. What's even more impressive is Moore's well-rounded talent with instrumentation. The wide variety provides wonderfully distinctive sounds for each track. He also has quite a knack for painting rhythms and beats with simple layering of ambient sounds and mouth smacks. Admit it, a tasteful combination of glockenspiel, tongue clicks, and coughs are pretty rad.

The translation is kept intact even with Moore's live shows. His music presents a truthful intimacy with the audience. However, Jeff Ilgenfritz's (aka Mumpsy) addition of a full drum set on particular tracks during a live show left a small void of additional rhythmic drive when listening back to the album. But at the same time, the barren basement feel heard in "Visibility Anxiety" is exactly what makes the album beautifully authentic. Moore's lyrics deal with both raw subjects common to anyone who's suffered through loss as in "Coughing in the Clouds (In Our Love)", and even for the hesitant, doubtful artist in "Poetic Signals From Fruitless Laborers."

The album's colorful vocal harmonies reflect a refreshing reminder of the Beach Boys. But let me emphasize that "Signs of Potential Life" is no Pet Sounds 2007. The combination of respect and inspiration drawn from the unfiltered masters of yesterday, the talent of an open-minded and classically trained musician, and pure sound and unpredictability create a honest and respectable album that can be hard to come by these days."

~ Alisha Torrealba
KillerPop.com

credits

released February 13, 2007

Written, Produced, Arranged, Mixed & Recorded by Sean Moore. Recorded sporadically in Tallahassee & Longwood, FL from May of 2003 through December of 2006. Love & Warmth to Mom, Chris and Amanda. This album is dedicated to the loving memory of my father. Thank you.

Sean Moore - Vocals, Acoustic/Classical/Electric/Bass Guitars, Violin, Piano, Wurlitzer, Glockenspiel, String Bass, Synthesizer, Ukulele, Trumpet, Percussion, Human Beat Box, Samples
Chris Moore - Cello (5, 7, 8 & 10)
Matt Kamm - Banjo, Percussion (5)
Will Jones, Jr. - Piano (7)
Jason Joyner - Bass Guitar (9), String Bass (10)
Lane Barrington - Drums (9)
Terry O'Brien - Percussion and Mouth Cymbal (10)
Chris Cucci - Banjo (10)

Artwork by Tele.

Aural Commentators - Amanda C., Lane, Matt K., Terry, Bean, Quique, CMoore, Alex, Two Patricks, Trey, Tianna, Will, Conrad, Miguel, Philihp, Chris Cucci, Amanda F., Matty B., Rae Ban, Mumpsy, T.J., Lindsay, Heffle, Matthew C., Brian Gaber.

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